Face Paint
by ocehot
Summary: Garrett and Marian Hawke's face paint across their noses spawned from the love of face paint they had as kids, which was once shared with their younger siblings. Kiddie!Hawkes. c:


_Face paint._

As a kid, nothing is more fun than coating your face in the stuff. Smearing it everywhere, to create an illusion of something you weren't. You wanted to be a tiger for a day? Awesome. Find some of it and get your mom to apply it. Don't touch it (unless you want it smudged), and a wonderful session of make believe could occur.

It was even better when you have siblings or friends to play with.

All of the baby Hawkes loved face paint. The eldest, Garrett, was currently six, and going through that phase. You know, the "I'm too old for everything" one. Claiming it was "too childish," he would still smudge some red over the bridge of his nose whenever Leandra brought it out. Marian, the oldest girl at the age of four (and _a half_, she'd always add) copied her brother's attempt of a warrior look. They looked near identical at this age. Their eyes were different colors, which was the sure fire way to tell them apart; Marian's eyes a deep blue, and Garrett's a hazel. Garrett was a bit taller, but not by much. If anything, they looked more alike than their twin siblings.

Carver and Bethany, adorable and teetering along at the age of two, were the babies of the family. They got into anything and everything, similar to most kids their age. Luckily, the terrible twos hadn't hit them too hard.

Like most kids eventually do, Garrett was in his room with the door closed. If he had to be twice his age, Leandra might have worried. As he wasn't a troublesome teenager (or preteen) yet, she let him be.

Carver, on the other hand, didn't. He had recently learned how to open a door, and this was rather convenient when he wanted something from _anything_; whether it was his brother, the cupboard, or his mother. Just barely grasping the doorknob on his tiptoes, he turned it slowly with his left hand, and pushed forward a little.

Looking up in surprise from his bed, Garrett attempted to cover his painted nose with his hand that wasn't stained with red. Realizing it was only his kid brother, he put his hand down and smiled at the boy, who walked over in response.

"What do you think?" He pointed towards the bridge of his nose, slick with crimson paint drawn in a sort-of straight line. "It really says Champion of Kirkwall, hmm?" Carver grinned and reached for the tub filled with bright orange behind his brother. He tried to twist the cap off, but to no avail, and frowned at the container in his hands.

"Let me get that." Garrett took the face paint from his brother's stubby fingers, and easily turned the cap off. Dipping a clean finger into the circular container, Carver beamed with joy. "Tiger!" He exclaimed, his blue eyes aglow with pure excitement. Garrett smiled down at him, and quickly slathered the near-neon substance on his brother's face, carefully avoiding his eyes and the still smiling mouth.

When he was finished applying the orange, he wiped his fingers in his pants. His mom would be mad, but it was better than the bedspread. He didn't want to risk his parents seeing him with red on his nose just to wash his hands, either. He knew they'd be dirty again later, anyway. He sighed, and grabbed the container with black inside it.

As he started to paint stripes on his brother's face to match a tiger's, Bethany and Marian had both somehow made their way in. Garrett mentally sighed and regretted not closing the door when his brother had came in five minutes ago.

Marian was smirking at him, arms crossed. She knew he still enjoyed putting that red warrior paint on his face, no matter what he said against the matter. She had just caught him, and this could definitely be something she could tease him about later. They never really got along well, and both were too similar (and stubborn) to agree on anything. Any kind of weapon against him was a plus to win a fight. Marian and Garrett both wished to be the Champion of Kirkwall, and breaking up a conflict between the two of them was near impossible.

Finishing his brother's face make-up, he stole a glare at Marian, who merely smiled innocently at him in response. As he was about to open his mouth to tell her to leave (there could only be _one_), Bethany was smiling up at him and begging for a "butterfwy."

Sighing, but realizing he might as well, he took the rosy pink color and applied it to her face. He first made the shapes that resembled a three and a backwards three for the wings. He filled the outlines in as quickly and neatly as a six year old can muster, only to realize that Marian had grabbed the black. She was tracing the outline of the butterfly's abdomen down his sister's nose and forehead, which was supposed to be _his_ job. He gritted his teeth to prevent himself from saying anything brash. It was as close as he could get to shouting at her without actually resulting to yelling.

She made two, swift lines for the antennae of the bug, with a little circle on top of each. Garrett, in an attempt to be done before her, grabbed the leftover orange and drew a few polka dots on the wings. They completed their work near the same time; a race that hadn't been won. It definitely wasn't the most accurate butterfly, but the two were proud of their work – but not the other's.

At last, Marian reached for the red paint and copied her brother's face, grinning at him in triumph. Garrett looked ready to strangle her. "Hey, I'm the _true_ Champion her-" Garrett's argument was cut off by a mighty (or as mighty as a two year old can be) roar from Carver, who had started to escape on all fours, imitating a tiger as best as he could. Instead of staying around to argue with Marian, Garrett sensed his chance to flee.

Garrett leaped up from his bed, and started to chase after Carver – a task that wasn't difficult, as crawling isn't the fastest method of escape. "Get back here, foul beast!" He shouted jokingly, hoping to start a game. Hunter and prey: a simple, age-old game. He ran out of the door to find his brother scooting down the hallway, as quick as he could go – roaring playfully the whole time. Marian and Bethany stood by the door frame to watch their older brother chase after the younger one, who almost tripped in his own two feet in a mad scramble to catch up. The threats of irrational doom he uttered to Carver were ones Marian imagined he might actually make if he had come in contact with an actual wildcat.

Leandra and Malcolm heard the play chase before they saw the event unravel from the kitchen. Leandra sighed, seeing the smudge on Garrett's pants – and then seeing their faces. "Maker, _that_ isn't going to come off easily." Malcolm chuckled at her distress over a simple thing.

Finally, Garrett caught up to Carver and hoisted him up in his arms to make eye contact. He wasn't heavy, and Garrett wasn't the weakest kid. A small war cry of victory was sounded from Garrett, and Carver squirmed with a scowl on his face. Garrett placed Carver back down and patted him on the head. "You were the greatest tiger," he complimented the toddler, only to be yelled at by his mother to wash up.

The worst part about face paint? Getting it off. The _even worse_ part, was when your mother and sister teased you mercilessly because you claimed not to like it, only to get caught with it on after chasing your brother into the kitchen, playing pretend.

He still had a lot of growing up to do, but he doubted he'd ever grow out of face paint.

And he never did.


End file.
